


The Wedding Crasher

by StrawberrieMars



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Hair-pulling, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Second POV, Smut, just a little tho no one having sex gets too drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrieMars/pseuds/StrawberrieMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You knew he wasn't from your side of the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Crasher

You knew for a fact he wasn’t from your side of the family, because if he was then you’d be in some serious trouble for the first thoughts that came to mind when you saw him. (Among much dirtier things, one of those thoughts was about how much you envied his hair and wondering how long it took for him to make it look so damn good.) He had to be from the bride’s side, or at least a friend of hers. Then again, the happy couple had invited so many people you couldn’t dismiss the possibility that he was just crashing the party.

Whoever he was - and whatever he did to make his hair look so good - he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you all night.

At first it had been a little unnerving, if only for the fact that his eyes were a bright gold that seemed to burn into your skin wherever you tried to go. You tried to avoid him for about the first half-hour, hiding behind pillars or disappearing into the crowd on the dancefloor - at one point you even ducked down behind a table pretending that you had dropped something. No matter where you went, he somehow was right in your line of sight as soon as you thought you had lost him.

Soon enough you thought to yourself, fuck it - you’ll play his little game. It wasn’t like you had brought a date, and apparently neither had he. It was a wonder no one had already snatched him up.

You would stare back at him from across the room, mostly from your table setting or from the open bar. Sometimes you would loiter around one of the pillars, stepping behind them to peek back in his direction, only to find that he had moved to a closer spot. During a second round of wedding toasts he raised his wine glass in your direction, grinning at you; even from a distance his smile looked almost feral.

After cake, a more-than-tipsy cousin of yours decided they needed to distract you from your game. They slurred off, “Izn’t this weddin’ fffffrickin’ great,” and something about how pretty the hall was, and mentioning for the third time to you that there was an open bar. Ignoring them and directing your attention back to where the stranger had been, you sank in your seat when you found that he had disappeared. With a heavy sigh you sipped at your drink, figuring it wasn’t really _that_  much of a surprise that someone else had finally gotten to him.

“Excuse me.”

You somehow managed not to jump right out of your seat, instead turning in it to face the stranger.

Up close, you found that he radiated confidence. So much it was almost cocky. You nearly felt intimidated for a moment, but kept yourself sitting upright as he addressed you.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said in a silky voice, his eyes flicking to your cousin, who now had the dopiest grin on their face.

“Of _cours’_  not,” your cousin slurred, leaning forward over you and resting their elbow on your shoulder. “Y’not interruptin’ anyfin’. An’ even if you were, you’re so fffriggin’ sex-”

You subtly knocked over their drink with a nervous smile, successfully redirecting their attention to that and away from the embarrassing comment they almost made. Feigning concern, you reluctantly turned your attention away as well for a moment. “Oh no, your drink! Quick, go get another one before you sober up.” Somehow this made sense to your cousin who then made a dash for the open bar, and with a relieved sigh you turned back around, the stranger now sitting in the seat on your other side. “Weddings, right? Never complete without drunk family and friends.”

He laughed, now sitting in the chair next to you. “At least that hasn’t changed since I last attended one of these.” He looked toward the crowd on the dancefloor. “The dancing most certainly has, however.”

“You think so?” With a shrug you sipped at your drink, following his gaze and cringing at some of the couples who were practically on top of each other. “Well, maybe a little.”

He shrugged, taking a drink as well from a glass you didn’t think was there before. “Perhaps it’s been longer than I think, then.”

“And how long would you guess?”

“A very long time.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little peeved by his evasiveness, and yet simultaneously you took it as a challenge to figure out just who he was. “So how are you related to the bride?”

“I’m a... distant cousin of sorts.” He tilted his head. “Why so curious?”

“No reason,” you took another sip of your drink. “I mean, if you’re a wedding crasher you can just say so.”

“And why should I do that?” His wicked grin returned. “How do I know you won’t turn me in?”

You knew the answer he wanted to hear: because that would mean your conversation would be over and the rest of your evening would probably be pretty shitty. What were the chances you’d get to meet him again? Let alone, if you did that, what were the chances he’d _want_  to meet you again? Also he was absolutely gorgeous and you had no doubt that was an answer he was looking for, too. You doubted you’d be brave enough to finish the sentence if you tried to give him that one.

You gave him a shrug. “Because it’d be more fun not to.”

For a moment you thought you saw a devious glint in his eye. “Fair enough. Now how do I know that _you’re_  not a wedding crasher?”

You smirked. “Because I have the same last name as the groom. I’m his cousin.” Figuring it was as good a time as ever you took another drink before giving him your name and asking for his, to which he replied only with “Chase.”

As the night went on the two of you continued exchanging some banter, occasionally surprising yourself with how snappily you responded at times. A glance into your wine glass however made you realize why. While you weren’t necessarily drunk, you did have some inhibitions lowered, the main one being your filter between your thoughts and your mouth. Sometimes your hands would move of their own accord as well, on occasion landing closer to Chase’s after making some kind of gesture, which he didn’t seem to mind, and even reciprocated. Though, he tended to bring his hands far closer - draping an arm over your chair, a hand on your knee, at one point he had you laughing so hard your head nearly bumped against his.

As the conversation turned to pets however, you felt that maybe you should’ve tipped _your_  glass on your cousin. Because then when Chase had mentioned owning cats, you wouldn’t have replied with, “Lucky you, waking up to pussy every morning.”

Unfortunately, you hadn’t spilled your glass, and those exact words had come out of your mouth. You quickly turned your head away, putting your face in your hands to hide the blush, and only vaguely aware that Chase started laughing, or rather that maybe he was trying not to. Peeking out between your fingers and down at your empty glass, you sighed, laughing nervously. “I guess I’m not immune to the tradition of drunk friends and family...”

“I guess not,” he replied with a small smile. At least it sounded like he was smiling - you were trying to avoid looking directly at him now that you’d made a total ass out of yourself. Of course, whenever someone attractive was flirting with you, you always did or said something to ruin it in the end. This time would be no different except you were in a really nice dress and instead of heading home alone you’d be walking to your hotel room alone.

With another nervous laugh you stood from the table, one hand still on your blushing face. “I think I’m gonna go back to the hotel, then. Before I get _really_  drunk.”

“That might be best.” The sound of his chair sliding against the floor finally made you look at him again, one eyebrow raised. When he caught your expression he mirrored it, though with a smirk. “You expect to make it back by yourself?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I’m not _that_ drunk. I’m just buzzed. Barely even tipsy.”

“That may be true now,” he said as he held out his arm for you, “but it would be a shame if that changed on your way there.”

You suddenly couldn’t help but imagine the words “ulterior motive” flashing in bright letters over Chase’s head. Both the buzzed and clinging to sobriety parts of your mind agreed that you didn’t care.

* * *

The night air outside was crisp, enough that your head was already feeling a little clearer when you had exited the hotel where the reception was held. You had reserved to the wedding too late to book a room there, but luckily the one you did book was only the next block over.

Walking there hadn’t been as agonizingly slow as you feared, the awkward and dirty joke you had made actually spawning more similar topics. Though, mostly very crude and sometimes terrible jokes. For someone who seemed so dignified, you were surprised to hear how many Chase knew, some even sounding like they were older than the both of you.

Before you knew it, you were in front of your hotel.

Almost nervously you cleared your throat, glancing up at him. “I uh. I only had one glass of wine but... do you maybe want to help make sure I make it to my room?”

The wolfish smile on Chase’s face sent chills down your spine. “If you insist.”

The walk to the elevators felt longer than the walk to the hotel. The arm he held out for you had moved around your waist, making your heart race and pound in your ears. You knew that this was just going to be a one-night stand, why else would he crash a wedding other than to score? But somehow, he was making it seem so much more thrilling than that. Like he knew that this was going to be something he wouldn’t let you forget, even if he more than likely was going to himself.

You knew you probably shouldn’t have felt somehow _honored_  as you stepped into the elevator. That didn’t seem like quite the right word, even though the somewhat intimidating aura that radiated off of him brought that word to mind first. However you did feel damn proud of yourself that you had somehow caught his attention.

A group of three giggling teenagers rushed onto the elevator at the last minute, and you felt Chase’s arm tense some as you moved to stand in front of him and give them room. His gaze met yours in the reflection, and a look of annoyance was quickly replaced with the smirk that you had been getting so familiar with. His arm around your waist wandered lower, resting on your hip, his other hand doing the same. With a smirk of your own you shifted your weight on your feet, making your ass ever-so-slightly grind back against his crotch and yourself grinning at the soft hitch in his breath. It was so quiet you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t felt his chest rise slightly against your shoulders.

You couldn’t stop the sigh of relief when the teenagers got off on the second floor.

As soon as the elevator doors closed he spun you around and his mouth crashed down on yours, nipping away at your lower lip with surprising gentleness, given how sharp his teeth had looked. Your knees weakened some, almost fully relying on his arms around your waist to keep you standing. The _ding_  of reaching your floor couldn’t come soon enough, and the two of you only broke contact for a moment when you had to turn away to find your room key. Even then, he was right behind you, leaving kisses and bites along your neck and shoulders. When you nearly dropped the key card he took your hand in his to steady it, and once in the room slipped the card from your hand and tossed it to who knows where.

With neither of you bothering to turn on the light, somehow he managed to guide you around in the dark, still nibbling at your skin with both arms around your waist, holding you close to him. You could already feel the stiffness in his pants pushing against the small of your back - when did you take off your heels? - until something bumped against your knee, which was followed by being spun around again, picked up by the waist, and practically thrown onto the bed. It all happened in such a fluid motion that you probably wouldn’t have remembered it if it weren’t for the fact you felt the sensation of _being_ thrown.

His hands clawing at your dress made you quickly rid yourself of it, along with your stockings as you watched his movements through the darkness, presumably removing his necktie. The flash of a streetlamp reflecting off his belt buckle made your heart jump, along with the clink sound it made as he dropped it to the floor. Then, he finally paused for a moment, your eyes adjusting to the dark as you watched his - were they glowing or was that just your imagination? - roam your body. You suddenly felt so exposed, wearing your favorite set of underwear before a near total stranger, a thought that made you instinctively begin covering yourself with your arms. His eyes immediately snapped up to your face as he roughly pushed your arms down to the bed, the tips of his long hair brushing against your cheeks as he stared intensely down at you.

His eyes slid closed and he exhaled slowly, his breath ghosting over your face as he loosened his grip. “You can change your mind, you know. I’ll stop now if you don’t want this.”

That was. That was new. Normally you’ve managed to stop yourself before anything got too far with someone, let alone as far as the bed. You’ve been in tight spots before where someone wouldn’t leave you alone and take no for an answer, but you’ve thankfully gotten the point across eventually every time. But no one has ever thought to ask if you needed to stop. You aren’t fully sure how to answer him, either. You still felt buzzed, but you still knew exactly what you were doing. On the other hand you knew you were already trying to remember how you had gotten from the door to the bed.

“Chase?”

His eyes opened, pupils blown wide. You pulled one hand from his hold and reached into his hair, unable to keep the soft sigh of awe from escaping you as your fingers slipped between the silken locks. His gaze flicked toward the movement, making you hesitate for the shortest of moments before tangling your fingers and giving a slight tug as you brought your forehead to his.

“Fuck me.”

You heard a low growl, deeper than what you thought anyone could possibly make, before his lips found your shoulder, his teeth grazing your flesh as his hands reaching beneath you and undoing your bra with impressive ease. You pulled at Chase’s hair again, hearing another groan and yourself gasp as one hand roughly groped one breast, the other dragging down your side to your hip. When he bit down harder on your shoulder you pushed him back some, letting go of his hair to work on undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. You heard him cuss under his breath - in another language? goddamn that was hot - as he leaned back to follow your movements, throwing his shirt to who knows where in the bedroom, his pants and briefs being flung off shortly after.

Your own underwear was forgotten for the time being as you pulled Chase’s hair again. There was just so much of it, and after feeling how silky it was and hearing the noises he made when you pulled, you couldn’t resist. With another low growl he lay flush against you, his head at your navel eyes locking with yours as his tongue slid out, tracing a long line from your navel to the valley between your breasts. Again in the back of your mind you questioned if his eyes were really glowing or if that was your imagination, but that was your last coherent thought before his mouth latched onto one nipple, his tongue swirling around the tightened bud while one of his hands played with your other breast. His free hand moved downward, toying with the elastic of your panties before sliding them half-way down your thighs.

You couldn’t help the obscene moan that left you when he simultaneously slipped a finger between your folds, tugged at the nipple in his hand, and grazed his teeth against the other. The sound of him laughing around your breast vibrated against you and sent pleasurable shivers down your spine, your back arching up against him. The finger at your folds teased your entrance, drawing further moans from you. The few times you didn’t have your head thrown back or your eyes closed you saw him watching your reactions from under hooded eyelids. However the moment he pushed his finger into you sent you reeling as you bucked your hips into his hand, and you roughly tugged at his hair to pull him off your breast.

Chase tilted his head at the action, an undeniably smug grin on his face as he purred, “Something wrong?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, surprised you could even find the energy to do so. “I told you to _fuck_  me. Stop teasing.”

He laughed again, a much darker, almost sinister one than the one you had been hearing all night as he pulled your underwear completely off of you. As he lined himself up with your entrance, hands on the pillow on either side of your head, he repeated what he said outside the hotel: “If you insist.”

The pain came first. It always did. You could be a fucking waterfall of heat and you would still feel discomfort and a sting as a different sized dick than your dildo at home pushed in. But the pain subsided much quicker than you had anticipated, which was a godsend considering Chase seemed just as eager as you did for him to move. At first, agonizingly slow, pulling himself all the way out before thrusting hard back into you. Holy _fuck_ that felt good. It vaguely registered that you might’ve said that out loud, because you heard him chuckle again, his forehead against your shoulder and his hands now on your hips. His grip was so tight you were positive that you’d have bruises in the morning.

You experimentally dug your fingers against his scalp, a soft cry getting caught in your throat as he reacted by biting down against your shoulder, stifling any groans that had threatened to spill from him. The pace increased, almost too much, and part of you wanted to tell him so but the other part was screaming for more. Or maybe that was actually you screaming. Either way he didn’t let up, hips slamming against yours. You dragged one hand down his toned back, leaving trails of white scratches in your wake and burying your face into his shoulder to muffle any more of your own shouting. You would probably hear about noise complaints in the morning as well, but your mind was too far gone to think of anything other than, _So close. So goddamn close_.

Suddenly it was _your_ hair being pulled, your head being held back as he moved from your shoulder to tracing his tongue along your pulse, teeth dragging behind until finally his mouth found yours. The gentleness was gone. His pace grew almost frantic as his teeth pulled at your lower lip and grazed your tongue. When a hand reached down between you and circled your clit you really did scream, the sound caught between your mouths as your vision grew white. As your walls clenched around him you felt him follow you over the edge, his cock twitching and coating your insides with his seed.

He lazily thrust into you a few more times, riding out both of your aftershocks before he finally lay flush against you once more. A few minutes passed like that, your breathing just a tad louder than his, before he slowly pulled out of you. As he moved beside you he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back into some semblance of order and looking at you from his peripherals. You however stayed on your back, tracing patterns in the ceiling with your eyes.

“Holy fuck.”

You could hear the smirk in Chase’s voice. “I get that a lot.” You felt the bed shift as he sat up, leaning over you some. “In fact, I’ve gotten that _twice_  from you tonight.”

You made a ‘pfft’ noise and rolled onto your side, turning the alarm clock face toward you. “Oh wow. It’s only midnight.”

“Mm, the night is still young,” he laughed as he brought his hand to your shoulder, his breath hot in your ear.

“Shall we do it again?”

**Author's Note:**

> this took. so damn long for me to finish. and i still don't have a good reason why or how chase is at this wedding. i guess i'll leave it all up to you folks.


End file.
